


Deaf-Con Four

by TheGriefPolice



Series: Tony Needs a Little Help Sometimes [2]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deaf!Cling, Deaf!Tony, Families of Choice, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Mentions of past abuse, Other, Team as Family, Tony has a disabiltiy, acidental outing, hidden disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGriefPolice/pseuds/TheGriefPolice
Summary: Tony wasn't always like this. There was a time when he could hear as people joked around and laughed. But now, the silence was all he knows. That doesn't mean anyone else has to know, though.Tony might not get to make that choice anymore.See the notes for more...





	Deaf-Con Four

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have been obsessed with these deaf!Tony fics lately and figured I should add a little bit of myself to the theme! I want to do a whole series of Tony-centric disability fics where he has ADHD and Autism and dyslexia and stuff like that. So, if that sounds good to you, please let me know in the comments and we'll see where it goes!
> 
> Also, I am very aware that being 100% deaf in, like, super rare. However, for the stoey line, that is what I have chosen.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve asked, hurt spreading from the normally happy-go-lucky face.

And, to be honest, Tony wasn’t really sure. He could have told the team, he was sure they would understand. But there was a voice in the back of his head that said the moment he did so, he would be kicked off the team. He’d no longer be allowed to continue on as an Avenger. And that fear had kept him closed off and distant form the team.

He’d actually been surprised when a few months went by with no one the wiser. But now, they knew. And every fear Tony had was surfacing.

-/-/-/-

Tony remembered hearing his butler’s voice once a day. The man’s slightly accented tone pulling the boy out of his play. Well, play was a bit of a stretch on the word--he was actually working on a circuit board to show his father. But Tony thought it was fun and wasn’t that what determined how one plays.

He looked up to the old butler with a smile and stood up to follow him. Jarvis had come to fetch him for his father after Tony had asked to see him.

Tony remembered his father yelling, the man’s loud voice shaking him to his bones. Howard hadn’t been pleased with Tony’s lack of understanding that he’d wanted the boy to build useful things, not stupid circuits that already existed. The man had raised his hand and went in for the hit, right to the side of his face.

That was the only thing Tony remembered before the world went nearly-dead. Jarvis had written on a piece of paper that it wasn’t Tony’s fault, but it still felt like it was. It had been hard enough to please his father when he could hear. Now that Tony couldn’t, he was nothing more than a waste of his father’s time and space.

Jarvis and aunt Peggy taught him sign language as best they could, learning with the boy. But Howard refused to let the boy use it in his presence. So Tony had been forced to learn to read lips. He’d gotten pretty good at it too, but there was no way for him to talk back to his father. So Jarvis worked on getting Tony’s words to sound right, correcting him every time a word was too back in his throat or too close to his lips.

The sounds were hard, but, determined to be accepted by his father, Tony worked harder. The problem then arose that Tony was seven-years-old and already mastering every subject they put in front of him. His first engine was complete and Howard had no use for him.

So off he went to boarding school. Jarvis and Peggy were gone and Tony was left to fend for himself. And there was what Howard had yelled at him two nights before he left burned into his head: “Do not tell anyone about your uselessness, the last thing we need is for people to find a fault in the Starks!”

Tony hadn’t understood why, but he knew better than to argue. It was an unwritten rule that whatever Howard wanted, he got. And whatever he considered useless or broken was throw to the side and out of his way.

The single sentence had been engraved in his head long after his parents’s deaths. 

Rhody could tell something was up with his roommate after the first week they met. The kid never seemed to talk unless he was spoken to. He wouldn’t reply unless you were right in front of his face. He was also very jumpy anytime someone was behind him. When he’d confronted the teen about it, Tony had simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m a freak of nature. Bound to have some weird shit.”

Rhody rolled his eyes and went on with his life. However, he found that the kid wasn’t all that bad at all. He enjoyed making all sorts of weird things for Rhody to use to mess with people. Small teasers that wouldn’t do anything more than stun, a long strip of paper-thin tech that would trick vending machines into thinking you paid, stupid things like that. 

They also talked a lot. Which was how Rhody found out about Howard. From that moment on, Rhody had wished for powers to bring the man back to life for the simple reason of putting a bullet through his head to kill him again.

But when Rhody enlisted, Tony was left alone once more. Tony always felt like the man may have known because he always stayed in front of Tony when talking to him and never questioned why he wouldn’t make eye contact through a conversation--dark brown eyes always focused on the person’s mouth instead. He never questioned why the kid never had a phone even though he could easily afford one, or why his favorite songs never really had lyrics, instead consisting of had beats. 

They had an excellent game of “I won’t if you don’t,” going and Tony was grateful.

But after he’d been kidnapped and tortured, Tony didn’t care. He had tried so hard to get through everything--his father, school, MIT, daily life--and it felt like it was going to be gone in a moment. And then he created the suit. Yinsen had been the first person Tony ever told. There were no secrets in the cave, they didn’t have the time. And Yinsen had been such an intelligent man that he almost knew more ASL than Tony himself.

And that was how they talked about the suit. Tony would carry on one conversation with his mouth and another with his hands, the guards none the wiser.

But then, Yinsen died and Tony had wished with all he could, that he could hear as the people burned in that pit.

A year passed and now, Tony stood with five other people in the center of the street. All around them, buildings were being torn down and things were flying through the air. They could do this, and they knew it.

The comms had been hard for Tony to work out. He needed a way to interact with the team. He could talk to them, but he didn’t know what they had said back. So he rigged JARVIS and told him to display the conversation across the HUDD. It was hard to read and fight at the same time, but Tony got pretty good very quickly.

Now, these people were living in his Tower and Tony was scared to death they’d find out. He didn’t want their pity and he sure as hell didn’t want them to treat him any differently. But things were only getting more difficult.

He’d grown accustomed to having JARVIS’s assistance when needed, a holoscreen following him around near-constantly. But if he pulled that screen up and let JARVIS type out a conversation, they’d know there was something up. When he found out that Clint was half-deaf, a small shimmer of hope appeared in his eye. But it didn’t last long.

Tony had grown close with Bruce, and he could tell the man knew something was up. But he never brought it up, so Tony rested under the hope that he’d chop it up to Tony just being Tony and not ask any questions.

Natasha, however, was a whole different story. There were several times Tony was damn-near-certain the woman knew. But then she would do something like turn around as she spoke, which made Tony’s stomach settle while frustrating him all the more. On one side, it meant that she may not actually know; on the other, he didn’t know a damn thing she was saying and would have to ask her to repeat it.

It was getting more difficult when he realized that Clint had hearing aides and absolutely refused to use anything that was created to assist deaf people. Which meant there were never subtitles on shows and movies and Tony would miss well over half of what was going on. It meant that everyone would carry on a conversation at one time and Tony would get confused and lost. And then came the fact that as soon as Tony felt overwhelmed, he lost the ability to lip-read. 

Any kind of adrenaline and his mind would be racing too fast to focus on any person’s mouth long enough to get a sentence. This became difficult after battles when his head was still racing too fast to focus.

A hand in his shoulder sent Tony ten feet into the air, whipping his head around to face Steve.

“Stark, what the hell?” Steve questioned. “We've been trying to get your attention for a while.”

Tony hid behind in a fake smiled. “Sorry, was caught up in my head.”

Steve let out a sigh. “We're going for a mission debrief. You're expected to attend.”

Tony was having a hard time hiding the pain on his face. Mission debriefings were the worst of all--everyone seeming to talk at once. There was a perk that they seemed to not mind if he had a tablet, writing it up to Tony always having to have something in his hands. They never cared that his eyes didn't seem to leave the screen because he stayed attentive and would stay in the room for most of the debrief.

“Hey, cap. If you wanted to play the big, strong guy in this relationship, all you had to do was ask. No need to command me around.”

And, yeah, it was a little satisfying to see the red blush across his face.

“Be there,” Steve said and turned around to take his seat in the jet again.

Tony let out a sigh. He was exhausted, and his head hurt behind his eyes. He rubbed a hand through his hair and tried to not think about what was going on around him. It wasn't too hard when he couldn't hear a damn thing.

Back in the Helicarrier, the headache didn't seem to be going away and it was getting hard for Tony to keep his eyes open. Bruce was nearing half-asleep next to Tony when the mechanic picked up his tablet and sent a silent thanks to JARVIS. The AI didn't even have to be asked anymore, he just knew what Tony needed.

STEVE: DOCTOR DOOM ATTACKED DOWNTOWN AGAIN. WITHOUT THE FANTASTIC FOUR IN NEW YORK, THE AVENGERS RESPONDED ACCORDINGLY. The words appeared on the screen, moving a little slower than they were being spoken. 

CLINT: FUCKING THINGS NEARLY TOOK OUT THE WHOLE CITY. WE WERE LUCKY TO KEEP THE DAMAGE AS CONTAINED AS WE DID.

NATASHA: YOU MAKE IT SOUND HARD.

A pencil flew across the table, causing Tony to look up.

CLINT: AS OF YOU DIDN’T ASK FOR HELP.

Normally, Tony would have joined in on the conversation, but he didn't trust his voice enough and it felt like someone was drilling an actual hole onto the back of his head.

STEVE: ANYWAY, EVERYTHING HAS BEEN SETTLED. WE HAVE SENT WORD TO REED RICHARDS AND ALL BOTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO A CONTROL FACILITY.

Tony rolled his eyes, making his headache worse. Control facility his ass. It was more just a giant bucket of lava they dumped stuff in when they didn't feel like taking it apart. Good ol’ fashion “throw it in the fire and watch it burn.”

FURY: THANK YOU, CAPTAIN. PERFORMANCE REPORT?

STEVE: EVERYONE DID AS MOSTLY DIRECTED, SIR.

There was a moment when nothing appeared on screen, but then things started flowing too quickly. It took Tony a moment to realize it was him on the fritz and not the machine in his hands. His head wasn't reading anymore, the pain making his vision black on the edges.

He saw his name flicker across the screen several times before the world went dead.

-/-/-/-

Tony woke up to a light shining in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and jerked his head away. He could feel he was on the ground now, the cold from the tile seeping into his bones and telling him he'd been there for quite a while.

He cracked his eyes open against the light and saw a figure leaning over him. Panic kicked in, causing him to reach up with a punch and push away from the person. The next thing he knew, hands were holding him down and he couldn't move. He fought with all his strength, trying to get away from the men until he felt a slap across his face.

His eyes snapped open wide and showed him the large brown eyes of his silence bro. No terrorist. No treat. No reason to be thrashing around like an idiot. And then he saw their mouths moving.

His mind couldn't focus enough to see what any of them were saying, switching between everyone. His heart was still too fast in his chest and he couldn't help it. He couldn't even make words anymore, instead just having to sound like what he was sure was a dying cat to try and get them to stop.

On one hand, it had worked. They'd stopped talking to him. On another, all of their faces had completely fallen to worry. Even Clint's. Natasha’s face seemed to have fallen into one of the question.

Natasha looked to Clint to see if he recognized that slur. By the look he sent her, she was sure he had. After all, Clint carried the same one when he left his hearing aids out.

“Sthop,” Tony groaned, voice broken and wispy.

Natasha grabbed both sides of Tony’s face, forcing him to look at her. Tony’s eyes were wild as they locked on her mouth. She decided to keep it short and to the point in hopes that Tony could understand.

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment, but soon enough Tony got the idea and nodded his head minutely. 

“Hea’.” Tony said, in too much pain to care that he was playing charades with his hands. He reached up to pull at a tuft of hair.

“It's his head,” Natasha said over her shoulder to the team.

“He must have a concussion after being thrown into that building,” Bruce said, getting down on the floor and, after getting an okay from Natasha, moved his hands slowly around Tony’s skull. When the man winced over a bad bump, Bruce nodded.

“That's a pretty bad one. I'm surprised he’s awake at all after that.” Bruce’s eyes filled with concern for his friend.

Natasha looked back at Tony, tapping her fingers on his face to get the man to look at her. “Concussion. Medical.”

Tony nodded his understanding and moved to stand. Natasha stopped him before he could and waved Steve and Thor over.

“You two are going to have to carry him. He’s too out of it to walk on his own.”

Steve nodded and reached for Tony’s hand. Thor took the other and they started walking with him gently.

Tony wasn't really sure what was going on around him anymore. He could feel that he was moving, but not how or where or who was doing it. Tony knew it wasn't on his own because his feet were being dragged behind him. The next time he came to, bright lights assaulted his eyes and made him turn his head. 

He opened them once more to see someone sitting beside him, hand wrapped around his fingers. Tony smiled as he saw the blond hair sticking up.

The rustling on the bed woke Steve from the light sleep he had fallen into. He looked over at the bed that Tony sat in, giving him a small smile. 

Tony smiled back, his lips turning up without his consent. It didn’t matter, though. Not like anyone was around to see it besides Steve.

Just then, four more people walked into the room. Clint and Thor took the bench seat by the window, Bruce settling on a chair by Steve, and Natasha taking a stool by the bed. Tony was a little surprised to see them, but even more shocked when Natasha’s hands came up and asked him how he was.

Tony’s brow furrowed before realization hit him like a truck. They knew. They all knew.

Never before had Tony wanted to fade away like he did right now.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve asked, hurt spreading from the normally happy-go-lucky face.

Natasha translated the words, even though Tony knew what he was saying without hearing it. They all felt betrayed

And, to be honest, Tony wasn’t really sure. He could have told the team, he was sure they would understand. But there was a voice in the back of his head that said the moment he did so, he would be kicked off the team. He’d no longer be allowed to continue on as an Avenger. And that fear had kept him closed off and distant from the team.

There wasn’t a reason that he could think of now. They were a team, and they deserved to know. Clint hadn’t tried to hide it. Only Tony could be blamed for this.

Tony lowered his head, eyes falling on his hands as they twisted around the edge of the hospital blanket. “I’m sorry.”

A soft hand rested on Tony’s knee, making him look up. And there he met the understanding eyes of Clint with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I can’t say I blame you, but I do wish you would have told us.” He said.

Wow, how bad did Tony have to screw up for Clint to be the voice of reason?

“How have you been able to hide this for so long?” Bruce asked. Realizing Tony hadn’t been looking at him, he asked again when the man looked up.

Tony shrugged. “You’d be surprised how easy it is sometimes. So long as I can see your face, I can read your lips.”

“What about on comms, then?” Clint asked. He had his unit worked into one of his hearing aids. But Tony didn’t have any of that.

“I had JARVIS write everything out on the HUDD.” Tony shrugged. “I’m a fast reader.”

Clint shook his head, a little blown away with how far Tony had come without a single person finding out.

Clint raised his hands, asking _Can you read sign language?_

Tony nodded, bringing his hand up to say, _A little, but not much._

Clint nodded in understanding. It’s not like the mechanic used it all the time.

“Well,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If anyone else has any secrets, now would be a good time to let them off your chest.”

Clint raised his hand. “I have one.”

The team looked at him in confusion.

“You see, I'm not actually Clint. I am a raging, butt-kicking man who’s going to royally hurt anyone else that tries to hide anything from the team.”

The room busted out in laughter, Tony’s feeling as his stomach started to hurt from giggling so hard.

When Tony was finally released, he made sure the team went back to treating him how they always did. It was so much simpler when he could just pull up a dialog box at dinner to follow along with everyone or turn on the subtitles during a movie. Really, he didn’t understand why he hadn’t told them before.

Howard was wrong. Being deaf wasn’t some disability Tony had to hide away because he was weak. It was just a part of him, and he gets along great now that people know. Talking is easier, people are lighter, JARVIS even seems pleased that he is now able to help more.

And, really, Tony was happier. And isn’t that what counts?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos always appreciated, but never expected!
> 
> Find any wrong facts or inconsistencies? Please let me know. I want these to be as realistic as possible!


End file.
